


warm/home

by nbsherlock



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Showers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 19:56:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9510530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nbsherlock/pseuds/nbsherlock
Summary: behind him, he can feel that someones left a window open but can't bring himself to mention. (a kinda sad 1/29 fic.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> yeeeeesh wrote this on my phone real quick for 1/29 so no it's not betaed or anything. enjoy?

the water tends to run cold in 221b. it will stay warm for a bit and then seem to- shudder and chill no matter how far sherlock turns the knob or how well he times his showers to avoid other water usage in the flat. 

cold is... complicated. it rings truer to eastern europe than to the warmth and safety of baker street. it slices his back like the crack of a whip or the sting of a needle. he rushes to finish washing up and collapses against the tile. 

he takes deep shuddering breaths and wraps his arms around himself because in that moment, in the ice cold of serbian winter and not safe at home, he cannot think of anything else to do. he retreats into his mind and finds himself all at once in front of a fire in his arm chair. 

john sits across from him. behind him, he can feel that someones left a window open but can't bring himself to mention. the ice drips down his back, but the side of his face, his heart, are warm. 

john smiles at him. the flat smells like the formula rosie drinks and the tea john drinks and something altogether like home. "you okay, sherlock?" he says. 

he doesn't see why he wouldn't be. sherlock nods, a slow, lazy movement that seems to melt him further. 

"sherlock," again, with greater insistance still. 

sherlock goes to move his mouth but can't. 

"sherlock, for gods-"

he is jolted from the reverie, a thick towel (john's?) being wrapped around him. "you're going to catch a chill, like this. you're freezing cold, did you fall asleep?" john brings the towel up and dries sherlock's hair, mussing it up. sherlock feels his eyes close again. 

"when did you last eat?" john wraps the towel around his torso and waist again and puts his hands (warm) on sherlock's shoulders (shaking). "hm?" 

"chinese for lunch," sherlock mumbles, still a bit light on his feet. 

"right, right. forgot. so you just-" john scrapes a hand over his eyes and takes a deep breath. "fell asleep in the shower, yeah?" he holds him upright with one hand. sherlock nods, slowly, in assent. 

"rosie?" sherlock asks. 

"she's asleep, sherlock, it's the middle of the night." middle of the night. he got in the shower a bit before john usually put rosie down to sleep, wanted to say goodnight to her. take a quick shower, put on pyjamas, and then-

but something held him up. "what...?" sherlock murmurs, eyes squinting. "i wanted to say goodnight."

john rolls his eyes, "of course you did, you great loon. but there'll be plenty more nights for that. why don't we get you to bed?"

sherlock begins to move with john towards the door from the bathroom to his bedroom but stops just before john can open it. "will there?"

"hm? will there what?"

"be more nights." 

john's eyes soften. he smiles. 

"yeah, sherlock. there'll be more nights."

sherlock closes his eyes and sighs, feeling a wave of emotion crash over him (ridiculous). 

john opens the door. 

"john, i..." sherlock blinks. "i don't want to lie to you."

john cocks an eyebrow. "about what?"

"i... it's the cold. i. have trouble with the cold and the water in the shower-"

john's features seem to soften even further. "oh. it's okay, i get it."

"i just... have trouble with the cold and i try to time it right, but-"

"sherlock," john interrupts. sherlock looks at him. he cocks his head to the side, "we'll look into upgrading the water heater, yeah?"

sherlock's chest starts to tighten and it feels all at once like he's going to implode. his eyes start to tear so he closes them and grips, with shaking hands, at the towel. he nods, once. 

"hey," john murmurs. he touches sherlock's arm. his hand is (warm) so warm. "you're home, sherlock. we're both home." and john is so smart, so infinitely clever. so sherlock breaks into a million little pieces. so many he is sure he will never be able to repair himself. john catches him anyway. 

he holds sherlock to his chest and breathes. he is warm, he is home.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos appreciated! hmu @nbsherlock on tumblr. happy anniversary to those boys!


End file.
